


colder than this home

by kathillards



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers R.P.M.
Genre: F/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Psychological Trauma, tenaya is fucked up its not pretty but there are some cute parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathillards/pseuds/kathillards
Summary: Maybe this is the final evolution, the last piece of Venjix's game, the end of the blind girl he'd crafted into a monster. She coughs, choking, spitting blood out onto the floor. There's nobody around for miles; the night is close and dark with demons. Tenaya buries her head in her hands and screams.





	colder than this home

**Author's Note:**

> for week of toku ladies, day two. prompt was monsters/villains so here's a piece on my fave villainess that i've had sitting around since february of last year. warning for, uh, her entire mental state of being.

**colder than this home**

i paced around for hours on empty  
i jumped at the slightest of sounds  
and i couldn't stand the person inside me  
i turned all the mirrors around

―-  _halsey, control_

-:-

She wakes up with terror pressing in on her veins, red-hot and ice-cold and hungry for more. Out in the desert, the winds are rough and cold against her skin at night, but she has to run, has to move, has to keep going, has to escape the monsters clutching at her feet, wanting to drag her back down into the abyss –

She stumbles, falls down onto the sand, rocks cutting into her cheeks. There's somebody screaming in her head, or in the distance, or maybe it's her. _Dillon, Dillon, help me –_ but she's run too far away for her brother to answer her call.

Her lungs feel like they're filled with steel. Maybe they are. Maybe this is the final evolution, the last piece of Venjix's game, the end of the blind girl he'd crafted into a monster. She coughs, choking, spitting blood out onto the floor. There's nobody around for miles; the night is close and dark with demons.

Tenaya buries her head in her hands and screams.

-:-

Water. She needs water. Her eyes startle open, darting wildly around, but for a moment everything is black. Panic sets in; maybe she's going blind again. Maybe her sight was nothing but a cruel trick in the first place. Maybe, maybe, maybe –

She adjusts to the light. Someone hands her a cup; she forgets to double-check her surroundings and survey for potential threats. The water is cool, refreshing down her throat, calming down her heartbeat to a semi-normal rate.

"Are you all right?" That voice, she knows that voice. Warm, kind, male. She looks up from her glass of water into Scott's eyes and her shoulders deflate in relief. A friendly face. Somehow, she'd expected so much worse.

She doesn't answer, words caught in her throat. Scott doesn't repeat the question, only takes the glass from her when she's finished swallowing all the water in one go and trades it for a tissue. It takes her a moment to realize there's still blood on her cheeks.

"Where am I?" she asks him, dabbing at the cuts on her face. The tissue comes away red. Blood. She can bleed. She's human and she can bleed. Her stomach recoils at the sight.

"Safe house," he explains, backing away so she has some room to breathe. "Your signal went crazy last night. Dillon called us, K set me on the case. He's freaking out, you know. They're on their way over."

Tenaya squeezes her eyes shut. "I didn't mean to scare him," she murmurs. Scott's fingers are soft over hers when he moves her hand away from her face. "I didn't mean to – "

"I know," he says, taking the tissue from her to wipe off the rest of her cuts. "He knows. It's okay, Tenaya. You're safe now."

He brushes her hair out of her face, unerringly gentle. Tenaya shivers; human touch is still foreign, despite her brother's best efforts. Scott feels nice, though, feels warm. Feels like home.

-:-

"It was just a stupid nightmare," she says, but that doesn't stop Dillon from hugging her goodbye and leaving her at Scott's house for the weekend. She doesn't mind his air conditioner and the comfort of having a decent bed, but she hates being treated like she's made of china all because of one bad dream.

"He's your big brother, he's allowed to care about you," Scott points out, offering her a glass with amber liquid in it. Tenaya peers down at it, confused. She knows the law; she's a year shy of twenty-one.

"I think he cares too much," she mutters, but accepts the drink anyway. "Isn't this illegal?"

Scott chuckles, pouring himself a glass. "Uh, maybe, if the world hadn't ended. Besides, you look like you could use it."

She takes a tentative sip and winces. It burns, but it feels good. Soothing, almost. Like it's burning away her fears. "What do you do for fun around here?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Well, I have work. You can do whatever you want, as long as you don't get yourself in trouble."

Tenaya tilts her head. "Thought you were my babysitter," she challenges.

Scott coughs on his drink. "Well, he's not paying me, so that can't be true." But when he meets her gaze, there's something hidden there, something she can't decipher even with all her cybernetic enhancements.

Her stomach jumps. Human, painfully human. "I should get to bed," she says slowly, although the thought of going to sleep fills her with dread.

It must be written on her face, because his brow furrows and he asks, "Are you sure you'll be all right?" all soft and concerned and caring. Like he cares. Too much, he cares too much. She sees now why he and Dillon are best friends.

"You're not getting paid to worry about me," she reminds him, finishing off her glass and setting it on the kitchen counter. He hadn't given her too much; she kind of wishes she had more to soothe the dull ache of her nightmares creeping up on her again, ever-present and always hostile.

"But I do," he says simply. Tenaya stops on her way out the door, feet stilling, frozen to the floor. Unable to find anything to say in response. She's not used to people caring. It still feels strange when Dillon does, and he understands her better than anyone else. And Scott –

What she likes about him is that he doesn't expect replies for everything. At least not from her. She hears him moving in the background, sitting down on the couch. The conversation lost. She wraps her arms around herself, wishing she didn't have goosebumps from fear of her dreams already, and walks away to her bedroom.

Her feet aren't steady on the floor, but maybe he won't notice. Maybe, if she tries hard enough, she won't notice either.

-:-

Monsters, there's monsters. Glowing red eyes. A timer counting down to something, something terrible. Steel hands wrapped around her wrists, too skinny, too young, tugging her down into the abyss. Metal crawling up her spine. Her wrist snaps off, hand breaking, jumping away from her.

She's shaking when she wakes up, sweat sticking the red sheets to her skin. Her thoughts scatter, her hands grasping, fumbling to make sure they're attached, everything is attached, she's human she's human she's _human_.

The door swings open. She's forgotten where she is. Scott stands on the other side, his gaze hazy with sleep, but still concerned. Always concerned. Concerning. She's concerning. She's a _problem_. She was handed off to him like a _child_.

She wants to scream, throw something, kick him, but she's stuck, frozen to the bed, her fingers curling in the sheets, knuckles going white. She tries to say something, but the only thing that escapes her is a whimper.

Scared. She's scared. She's never been so scared in her life. Scott is at her side in an instant, sliding an arm around her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she tries to make the nightmare slip out of her mind, out of her body where it's taken her hostage.

"It's okay," he murmurs, twice, three times, five. "It's okay, you're okay, you're safe." She presses her face into his shoulder, the cotton of his t-shirt soft against her skin, and when she pulls back, it's wet.

"I don't know what's happening," she whispers, horrified, swiping at the tears on her face. She doesn't know why she's crying, doesn't even feel like she _is_ crying. But the tears are still there. "I don't – I've never had this many nightmares before."

Scott rubs gentle, soothing circles on her back. "Just part of being human," he murmurs. She wonders how many nightmares he's had. Wonders how many of them were because of her, the things she did, the people she hurt –

"Don't," he says, like he knows exactly what she's thinking. And maybe he does. "You're doing that thing Dillon does where he hates himself for everything, aren't you?"

"Are they paying you to psychoanalyze me?" she retorts, surprising herself with the bite in her tone. It feels normal, familiar. Like her when she was –

Scott leans closer, washing away her memories of the time before she earned her humanity back. Her breath catches in her throat; she thinks, for one terribly poignant pause, that he might kiss her, even though he has no reason to, even though she has no reason to want him.

But all he does is disentangle his arm from around her and move back. Cold seeps in where his body heat had filled her, leaving her empty and almost disappointed. His hand lingers on her arm for a beat too long.

"Do you want, um," he says, stumbling slightly when he meets her gaze. She's not sure what he's found on her face, but it makes her smile. Normal, this is normal. She's not sure what normal is even like, but it feels nice. "Do you want... something? Water, or milk, or...?"

She wants him to stay. "I'm good. I'll just – I'll be fine."

Scott runs his tongue over his lips, like he's debating with himself. Tenaya looks down at her fists still clenched in the bedsheets. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

He sounds surprised, too.

She's going to say no when she opens her mouth, but— "Yes."

His mouth parts, then closes. She can see his breath going down in a gulp, nervous. Her insides tangle up with themselves; the nightmares seem suddenly very far away. Maybe that's the point. Maybe that's the humanity in him.

"All right," Scott says, and carefully climbs into the bed, his body all sorts of warm and hers tingling wherever he touches her. He tries not to, but it's hard, because the bed isn't that big and he is far taller than she remembers. She unclenches her fingers from the sheets and curls up inside them again, running her hands over her stomach to calm every nerve in her body.

It occurs to her that she's not wearing very much. She's pretty sure it's occurred to him, too, judging from the way he shifts so she's not quite tucked into his side, so he doesn't have to press his body up against hers.

"You can," she starts, unsure of what, exactly, he _can_ do. She's not a cuddler. She's not even much of a toucher. But she'd said _yes_ , and he's doing this for her. So she won't be alone. "You don't have to avoid me."

Scott breathes out half a laugh. "I wasn't," he says. It's a lie, but she lets him have it, because in the next instance, his hand is skimming across her stomach, draping loose over body. Hesitant, but solid. His touch is so warm, it feels like he's melting her skin everywhere his fingers brush.

Tenaya turns into him, curling her body up, ducking her head down into his collarbone, inhaling his scent. He's sweaty, but she doesn't mind it, not really. He's there, is what matters. There to touch, to hold onto. She brings one hand up – the robotic one, tentatively – and touches his breastbone, right over his heart.

He inhales sharp in his chest and she almost jerks her fingers away, but then his breathing steadies. "Feeling better?" he asks, barely above a whisper. Everything feels secretive, feels intimate. She's not sure how she'll ever have a nightmare, curled up into him like that. Of course, that's the point.

"A little," she answers, letting her eyes flutter shut. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Scott murmurs, his other hand coming up to tangle soft in her hair, smoothing it down, fingers drifting down to her back and tracing absent patterns that feel hot even through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Yeah, anytime."

She doesn’t have nightmares again. Maybe it’s his heartbeat under her fingers, or his hand on her back, or the way he feels, all warm muscle and quiet strength, with his breathing lulling her to sleep.

-:-

In the morning, she’s alone in the bed. Sunlight dazes her momentarily when she blinks awake, and then the panic sets in. There’s nobody around, the whole room empty, like nobody else had ever been in here. She rips off the sheets and stumbles out of bed, disoriented, lost.

She hates how much she’d expected him to be there.

Somehow, she gets her bearings enough to track him down in the kitchen, where he’s doing the dishes from what she presumes is breakfast and hopefully not lunch. Come to think of it, she doesn’t know what time it is, hadn’t bothered to look at a clock or in a mirror since she left her room. She had something to say, but seeing him knocks all the words out of her throat.

“You’re awake,” he says when he turns to notice her standing at the threshold between the kitchen and the hallway, a flicker of guilt on his face. “How’re you feeling?”

Tenaya stares at him for a moment, her jaw working soundlessly. She doesn’t know why she cares so much, doesn’t _want_ to care so much. She cares so much it feels like her heart is constricting. Is this how humans feel all the time?

“I’m fine,” she finally bites out, wrapping her arms around herself even though his air conditioner isn’t even on. Morning chill seeps into her body anyway, goosebumps rising on her skin. She hates this. She wants to be out in the desert again, far away from this and him and everything he entails. Chasing hope, chasing monsters. Corinth doesn’t hold anything for her anymore.

“Tenaya,” he begins, looking worried, and she turns away.

“I’m fine, I’m totally – ”

“I’m sorry I left,” Scott blurts out. The word _fine_ dies on her lips. He rounds the kitchen counter, coming up close behind her, too close. She wants to walk away, wants to run. She’s been running a lot lately. “I’m sorry, I know – I should have been there when you woke up, I just – I had a – a meeting…”

His voice trails off hopelessly. Tenaya bows her head, scuffing at the tile floor with her bare foot. It’s cold, but his warmth overtakes the sensation entirely. He hasn’t moved, but she thinks he will if she makes him wait long enough –

“Do you always sleep with girls and leave before they wake up?” she quips, the joke coming easier than she’d expected. Teasing, familiar. Natural. The constricting of her heart eases a little when she turns to look at him and finds him looking appropriately flustered. Better than apologies. Better than wanting him to apologize.

“Sometimes, I forget you’re Dillon’s sister,” he mutters, but there’s a laugh around the edges of his voice as he moves around her. And something else, that same something she can’t quite decipher, another puzzle piece: _sometimes, I forget you’re Dillon’s sister_ , like maybe – maybe –

She coughs, clears her throat. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

Scott looks at her like maybe he _wants_ to forget. But the moment passes, like all other moments. She settles down at the kitchen counter and pretends nothing happened, nothing at all.

-:-

She has another panic attack later that evening when Scott isn't home and there's an attack on the television that hits too close to home. Fire and smoke. Death and bloodshed. People screaming. The whirring of machines. 

She curls her fingers around the wrist of her cybernetic hand and pretends it's real, she's real, she's human.

Scott finds her on the couch an hour later, hugging her knees to her chest, shaking, thinking, _this isn't what the happy ending is supposed to feel like_. He's beside her before she even registers his presence, arms strong and solid around her frame, drawing her in to a hug.

It reminds her of last night, the comfort and security. Feeling safe, feeling protected. She's never needed it before now, always been a hunter instead of the hunted. A villain instead of the victim.

But then, maybe she's always been the victim.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks after she's stopped shaking, though he doesn't remove his arms and she doesn't pull away. One of his hands carts through her hair gently, untangling the knots with a deft hand that never seems to hurt. His other hand slides up and down her back, steady and reassuring.

"I'm fine," she mutters, staring down at her hands caught between his body and hers, fingers twining anxiously. "How was your... meeting?"

She doesn't have to look at him to see the same flash of something – guilt, or maybe not – on his face. It echoes in his body, the way his palm flattens briefly on her spine, the way his fingers slide over the back of her neck and still. She almost shivers, but she stops herself in time.

"You're making fun of me," he states. Tenaya giggles, unable to help herself, and then she's laughing, really laughing, collapsing into his chest. The force shakes out her panic and her fear, loosening her body until she's unwound entirely. Scott's smiling when she calms down enough to look up at him.

"Well, you make it so easy," she says, batting her eyelashes at him. Scott makes a face down at her, but his fingers dance over her waist, light and ticklish, so she figures he's forgiven her. "That had to be the cheapest line in the book."

"I – it wasn't a line!" he protests. "I do have a job, you know. And you slept in _really_ late and - "

"And you were worried what my brother would think?" she prompts.

Scott exhales. "Yes, I was worried what your brother would think," he admits. "Don't roll your eyes, you know he's protective."

Tenaya snorts. "Yeah, but it's not like you actually slept with me."

He looks away from her, clearing his throat. "That – that's not what he'd be mad at me for."

The tension in the air changes, settling heavy around her as she suddenly becomes aware of just how they're sitting, how their bodies are pressed together, how he's so close she could kiss him, if he were actually looking at her -

Which is probably why he's not looking at her.

"Oh," she says, for lack of anything else to say. She should get up, she should move, she should do something, anything, but–

But he keeps the panic at bay. He touches her like she's human, not like she's made of glass. Not like she could cut him at any wrong move, even though she could. He makes her feel like maybe she has a chance at battling all her demons.

She doesn't want to move away.

"Tenaya," he breathes, and he doesn't move away, but it gives her pause. He's staring at her lips, but she doesn't want this if it's just going to be a ghost hanging over them.

"Right," she says, looking down to mask her disappointment. "My brother."

It's the stupidest reason. She clambers out of his lap and off the sofa before he can so much as catch her wrist to stop her, although he tries.

"Tenaya, that's not it," he insists. She stops with her back to him, skin tingling from everywhere he'd been touching her and everywhere he wasn't touching her anymore. Anger sparks inside her; at him, for doing this to her, at herself, for being so affected by him, at Dillon, for his shadow looming over them, for being off in the wilderness with his _girlfriend_ , for not letting her come along because she’s broken and fragile and scared and –

“Then what is it?” she demands, her voice rising too high to be casual, too annoyed to pretend to be otherwise. She whirls on him, gratified at the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Is it the robot hand? The cybernetic enhancements?” She gestures at herself, at every part of her that buzzes and beeps instead of humming a human rhythm, angry at Venjix, angry at her dead parents, angry at herself for being taken. If she were human, she might be crying, but she’s _not_.

“Tenaya,” Scott begins, clearly unsure of what to say to calm her down. Spitefully, she’s glad. She doesn’t want him to be able to calm her down, doesn’t want anyone to be able to calm her down.

“Is it the nightmares? Is it my brain going fucking crazy? Is it too much for you?” she continues, relentless, pushing past the ache in her chest and the hurt on his face. “Is it the fact that I tried to kill you?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, but doesn’t say anything this time. Tenaya steps back, almost ready to run away, robotic hand curling and uncurling into a fist, unsure whether it needs to fight or not. Run or not. Always running. Always, always scared. The reminder of her days as a villain does nothing to calm her heartbeat, only accelerates it into a race of _remember when you did this awful thing and that awful thing and tried to kill your brother and tried to kill his friends and almost succeeded and what if you had killed him what if –_

Scott steps forward, jolting her out of her own head, and cups her face in his hands. His hands are so soft and warm on her skin that all her surprise melts away into something completely different, something closer to longing than loathing for her comfort, and she finds a shiver running down her spine as he looks at her, really looks at her, like it’s the first time he’s seeing her.

Her lips part almost before she knows what’s happening. He kisses her soft and slow, never pushing, never pulling, only lingering sweet over her mouth. His thumb traces circles on her cheek, comforting, warm, and she forgets her name for a minute when she opens her mouth and he slides his lips over hers.

She curls her fingers around his wrists, not a fist for once, but an anchor to his body, holding her steady as she lifts herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss him deeper. It’s the first kiss she’s had that she can remember, the first one that means something, means anything, and she doesn’t want it to stop when it does.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when they part, his breath ghosting over her lips. “I’m sorry I left and I’m sorry this is happening to you and I’m sorry I—”

Tenaya yanks him back down, her heart pounding too hard to listen to apologies, to forgive him. This time, she kisses him rough, swallowing all his _sorry_ s, all the ways he keeps trying to make it up to her. Her hands snake up around his neck and tangle in his hair and pushes and he stumbles backwards onto the couch, taking her with him.

“We can’t,” Scott gasps, breathless and panicked, although his mouth lingers too close to her for that to be true. “Tenaya, we can’t—you’re—”

“I know what I am,” she hisses, and underneath is the constant refrain of _monster villain cyborg monster monster MONSTER_ , and she barely even notices when Scott takes her hands and pulls her up and the electricity in the air shatters, just like that.

“You’re not,” he murmurs, cradling her face in his hands. “You’re not what you think you are. I promise, Tenaya. You’re not a monster.”

Scott presses his lips to her forehead in one last, aching kiss, and then pulls away. Tenaya stays there, hands shaking, and can’t quite remember how to breathe.

-:-

She steals a motorcycle from the garage and runs away. It’s not her smartest decision, but it’s the only thing that helps with keeping the voices at bay. Out on the roads, beyond Corinth’s dome, she doesn’t have to listen to the screams and the dreams and the way the terror clenches onto her heart at a moment’s notice.

Summer and Dillon leave her text messages; so do most of the other rangers. She sends back ‘ _I’m ok’_ and very little else. After a week, they seem to have abated.

Scott doesn’t send her anything, but she stops by an old safe house in the wastelands to find some water and he shows up there one morning, in his Eagle Squad gear.

“Come to take me in?” Tenaya asks, displaying her hands so he knows she’s not armed. Not that it matters much, but Scott doesn’t pull out his gun, either.

“Just wanted to check up,” he says, walking carefully towards her, like he’s afraid she’ll spook if he comes too close. “You know that tracker’s still on you.”

Truthfully, she hadn’t bothered to get rid of it. “I’m fine, Scott,” she says, brushing down her leather gloves and moving to go past him, back to her motorcycle.

“Are you?”

Scott catches her wrist and pulls her in slowly, fingers sliding gentle over her skin. “If you’re not, I can…”

“Can what?” she asks, almost amused. “Take me back to Corinth and take care of me like I’m a child?”

“I didn’t do that,” he says, something flickering in his eyes. “I let you leave because I thought… I thought it would help. Being away from me. From everyone.”

Tenaya looks at him searchingly. “Then why are you here?”

Scott half-smiles. “Is it so difficult to believe I missed you?”

“Scott,” she says, carefully, slowly. “I—”

“I get it,” he interrupts, and lets her loosen her arm from his grasp. “I want you to be happy, Tenaya. If you’re happy out here…”

She presses one hand to his cheek, cutting him short, and leans in and kisses him. It’s quick and warm, like a burst of afternoon sunlight on a cloudy day, and it electrifies her down to her toes, but she doesn’t let it go on too long.

“I don’t know what happiness feels like,” she admits, watching as he brings one hand up to cover hers, thumb tracing over the back of her palm. “But… it’s easier out here. Where I can’t hear everything so much. See it all happening in my head.”

Scott nods but doesn’t say anything, letting her untangle the words for herself.

“If you wanted to… come with me,” Tenaya says, her breath catching for a second. Scott’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I do want to,” he says, his free hand reaching up to slide strands of her hair behind her ear. “But I have a job—my dad’s back in Corinth.”

“You don’t have to stay forever,” she tells him. “I’m not going to stay forever.”

Scott looks at her, really looks at her, and she feels that spark straight through her bones again. The voices are so still out here, standing in the desert with the dusty winds blowing, his hand on her skin, touching at so many points but not at all of them. They had been so loud in Corinth, had been so loud when she was with her brother, when she was alone without the sounds of her motorcycle and her hair whipping around her face, and Scott looking at her like—

“Okay,” he agrees, and she laughs a little in surprise. “How about today, for now?”

“Today,” Tenaya says, and when he leans in to kiss her again, she doesn’t push him away. The nightmares will come, as they always do, but out here, it doesn’t feel like the monsters can get to her. And feeling is the most important part of learning to be human.


End file.
